I was out foraging in the woods today —
This morning, when it was cooly,
dark, and quiet, only the birds had a say.

I saw the sun force the darkness to hide,
Allowing me to see;
Strewn branches, twigs and leaves astride.

Dead waste or my fire’s delight?!
I came home successfully,
Joyfully and proudly with the efforts of might.

I take Jack to pick blackberries.

I’d spotted them earlier in the hedge
down the lane and over a stile,
brambles hanging heavy overhead

We each carry
what we could find in the kitchen:
me a jug, he a plastic box.

The clutches of fruit perch  
like children sitting on a gate.
Rosehips and sloes peep yet
through the leaves, biding their time.  

I say,
look at the colours.
Green then red and then
finally
shiny, glowing,
deepest purple.

And oh how the fattest fall just so
into your hand,
as if they have been waiting

Soft bubbles bursting with juice
Our fingers and chins
turn pink

I like the tartest ones, sharp as a high summer sky.

And Jack only looks and me and smiles, nodding,
his hand finding
the furthest blackberries just
beyond my reach.

the humble dandelion
a **** to some
but a wondrous gift to me
clusters of yellow flowers
decorating fields of grass
like tiny smiling faces
signaling the birth of spring
delicious bittersweet leaves
nourishing earthly roots
cleansing to liver and body
abundant and free
nature’s most overlooked plant

Happiness does not come packaged in prescription bottles
Or plastic baggie, top carefully sealed
It cannot be found at the bottom of empty shot glasses
Or finished beer cans, that is not where it's revealed.

Joy will not be found rolled up in a joint
Not discovered in a small cardboard box
Or scattered among powder lined on a mirror
I have scoured many vials stocked with shiny rocks.

Smoking herb might cause you to laugh and smile
Hallucinogens can open your mind
Fun feelings fade you'll feel worse than before
Without aid of drugs contentment will be hard to find.

Soon you will spend time chasing chemicals
In form of a ****, tab, straw, or syringe
Whether you puff, eat, snort or shoot
It comes down to the same unhealthy binge.

Do not waste your life wrapped in burnt-up foils
Foraging through crumbs for a shroud of hope
We all have different ways of escaping
Some fall too deep and never climb back up the steep *****.

Sometimes i wish life could be easier:

i wish that i could live in a cabin in the moutons of Austria,
where snow blocks all the roads,

and the only company i have are deer and birds maybe the odd bear,
i wish for peace and tranquility,
for a time where everything just stops moving so fast.

i wish for a place where even the most mundane jobs take hours,
like chopping wood for the stove,
hunting for food,
foraging for sweet berries,
making everything yourself,

i wish for a time where i can just be at rest and not worry about coming back to this life that i live.